I am just trying to get it down so I don't forget. Which happens a lot. My non-virtual journal entries tend to devolve into lists of things to do that never get done. This place is filling up fast with brainfarts. Here, take this clothespin.
If Google brought you here, I'm sorry. You are unlikely to find what you were searching for. But there's plenty to see if you care to browse around.

Monday, August 14, 2006

zero to sixty in seconds

"Life is about the moment" he says leaning in towards her.

"I disagree," she says, "I think life is about character. The important thing is to live life in a way that is true to the self."

At which point he accuses her of being judgemental and narrow minded putting her on the defensive.

"memory is oxygen for life," he said taking her hands and pulling her close.

"So you agree with me," he said placing his hands on her waist. "Look into my eyes. Tell me what you think." His hands slide from her waist to her ass.

Clearly, he doesn't care what she thinks as he pulls her in closer still - insisting that he knows her mind better than she does.

Really, he thinks that he can tell her what she thinks and what she desires. He tells her that he is what she desires. And thinks that if he says it enough, she will accept it to be true. If he says it enough she will let down her guard and take him. Perhaps she might even allow herself to be taken too.

All this in a span of minutes in the kitchen after meeting.

*sheeee-uht*

Is it too much to ask that the Bastard take her for dinner and drinks first?